


You Owe Me One

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [47]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 02:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: "Hi,” the cute dude says at two in the morning, “I know we’ve never technically met and I know this is weird but, um, can I come in?”





	You Owe Me One

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: i’m so sorry i know this is weird but my roommates are arguing/snoring/fucking REALLY LOUDLY and i have to get up at 6am for work and i just need some place to sleep, can i please take your couch for just an hour or two. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).
> 
> Guess who forgot to set the 25-minute timer this morning? Oops.

"Hi,” the cute dude says at two in the morning, “I know we’ve never technically met and I know this is weird but, um, can I come in?”

Seb isn’t actually awake. He can’t be. That’s the only reasonable explanation for stepping aside and letting this half-dressed guy he doesn’t know wander in.

“My roommates are assholes,” the guy says. “They’re drunk and fucking like rabbits with megaphones and they know I have to be up at five for work and it was either knock on your door or commit homicide and I don’t think I could make it in jail. Plus I’d break my mom’s heart. So hey, neighbor, can I crash on your couch?”

He’s wearing paper-thin boxers, Seb’s neighbor. No shirt and no shoes and this, this is somebody he knows well enough to say hey to at the mailboxes or nod at on the stairs. Somebody whose name is a mystery -- Christian? Caleb? Chris?-- but whose body, hello, is a goddamn Shakespearean sonnet: perfect lines and A+ proportions and some part of Seb really, really wants to know how the dude’s iambic pentameter would feel in his mouth.

“I mean, yeah,” he hears himself say. “You’re welcome to. Except I don’t have a couch.”

The guy’s face legit falls. “Oh.”

“But my bed’s plenty big. You’re welcome to share.”

He’s so tired, so distracted by the guy’s pretty, that he’s not even embarrassed by it, the cheap porno of it all. He’s not trying to come on to this man, he’s not. Or, at least, he’s not lying about not having a couch. But the situation’s ridiculous already and that’s Chris/Caleb’s fault so hey, who is Sebastian to fight it? He’s just leaning the fuck in.

Neighbor dude’s face lights straight up. “Yeah? Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Don’t try and talk me out of it,” Seb says, surly, in what Mackie calls his customer unservice voice, the one he save for the asshole clients who are both super demanding and super cheap.

“No, no, man,” the guy says, and wow, that’s a hell of a smile. “It’s cool. We’re good.”

“”K,” Seb says, turning his back, shuffling back towards the bedroom. “Less talk, then. More sleeping.”

“Amen to that.”

When the lights are off and they’re under the covers, a safe arm’s length away, the dude says: “I’m sorry, I know this makes me sound like a dick, but - what’s your name again?”

“Sebastian. Seb.”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, suddenly, cool and strong. A squeeze. “Thanks, Seb. I owe you one, man.”

When the pressure’s gone, he misses it.

“Um, what’s your name?” he asks.

“Oh! Sorry. I’m Chris.”

“‘S ok. I’m sorry your roommates are dicks.”

Chris gives up a little sigh. “They’re not, usually. They’re basically awesome. It’s just when they drink, weird stuff happens. Like them screwing each other at full volume three feet from my head. The walls aren’t that fucking thick.” He laughs, a soft, sleepy sound. “And they’re not, like, a couple or anything. They don’t even talk to each other that much, except after tequila. It’s the weirdest damn thing.”

“Not that weird,” Seb says. “Maybe it’s like a wasted Tracy and Hepburn thing that can only be activated by booze."

He can hear Chris beaming at him in the dark. “Or Bogey and Bacall if they skipped all the banter and went straight to wasted and horny.”

Seb’s body turns towards Chris. He doesn’t ask it to. It just does. “Why don’t they get along?”

“Hmmm.” It’s quiet for a minute. “I think - I used to think - they were jealous of the other over me. Not like, romantically or anything. But when we got this place together, I was pretty much the only thing the two of them had in common. And they used to snipe at each other to get my attention, you know. Like they were competing to be my best friend.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I started to get really freaked out about it, like worried that one of them would move out and I’d be a) stuck with their share and b) left with zero best friends because they were being such assholes. But then one night I had to work late, like super late, until almost midnight. I get home and I open the front door and they’re going to town on the couch. The place looks like a frat exploded and they were just like, wow, so into each other, they didn’t even hear me come in."  



End file.
